Read Love For Rent Online

Authors: K.C. Cave

Tags: #lesbian sex, #M/F sex, #escort, #anal sex, #M/F/F sex, #three-way sex, #orgy, #prostitute, #whore, #BDSM, #outdoor sex

Love For Rent

 

 

Love for Rent

By K.C. Cave

Artwork by Moira Nelligar

Text copyright 2015 K.C. Cave

Book 5 of
Junie Makes Michael

License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to
share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental. This e-book includes descriptions of explicit sex and is for adults only. The stories in this e-book are completely fictional and are meant to be taken as fantasy. The author does not endorse or condone practices like incest, rape, or rough sexual encounters in any form. All characters depicted in these stories are 18 years old and above.

The Gulfstream, on a flight to nowhere, had leveled off at 39,000 feet. The main compartment, a large suite with a king-size bed and two sofa groupings, was essentially a fuck pad in the air.

Melanie was on all fours, head down, ass up, her arms thrust forward against the headboard. Junie’s arm circled her waist as she guided Rapja’s hard, black cock to Melanie’s puckered asshole. He gripped her hips as she gyrated on his stiffness, pushing—so far, to no avail.

They were nude. This would be the last fuck of a very long night that had started in the rapper’s penthouse suite. Now, cruising over the Atlantic in his custom jet, Melanie was gifting Rapja her anal cherry.

“Steady pressure, she’s relaxing, it’ll go in,” Junie said, urging on the rapper. Rapja stood at the edge of the bed, knees bent, straining between Melanie’s legs, his hands death-gripping her hips. Sweat ran down his face and dripped off his chin. It would be his fourth orgasm of the evening—if he could get it out.

“You said you had another one in you,” Junie said. “Goddamn it,
you said
…”

“Just give me a pill!”

“No fucking pills! Put it in! You wanted a virgin asshole. Here she is. Fuck her!”

Small mewing sounds escaped from Melanie as the black man pushed against her entrance. Junie grabbed the lube and slopped more slick goo around Melanie’s anus, smearing it up the veiny shaft of Rapja’s cock and his thick balls, big as hen’s eggs and tight against the base of his cock. “The head’s half in.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck,
fuck
.” It was Melanie. “I never…I never…jeezus…”

Junie reached under Melanie to her clit and made little circles on the hard nub. Leaning up to Melanie’s ear, she whispered, “You’re doing good. It’s a fuck he’ll remember for the rest of his life.”

With a loud grunt, Rapja pushed his meat partway into her rectum as the ring of muscle gave. Melanie emitted a high-pitched keen and shuddered: “So…fucking…
big
!” Junie wrapped her hand around his shaft, stopping it at about four inches into her girlfriend’s ass. “You’re getting soft, goddamn it,” she snarled.

“Long night,” he gasped. Then a scowl: “Watch how you talk to me, woman.”

Junie stood up, put her mouth to his ear. “You got an accountant? Pay him well?”

Rapja nodded, thrusting into Melanie.

“Argue with him at tax time? Damn right you don’t. You listen when he talks. Because he knows more about taxes and not paying taxes then you could ever imagine. Well, I know more about sex than you ever will. You’re paying us well for this. So shut the fuck up.”

Not waiting for a reply, Junie reached for her courier bag and rummaged around. Pulling out a harness and dildo, she stepped into it and snugged it tight between her legs. After slopping lube on the fake dick, she pushed it through the hole. Now she had a hard, black, deeply veined penis almost the size of Rapja’s.

His eyes narrowed. “Who you think you gonna fuck with that?”

The intercom came on. “
Rapja, thirty minutes to Logan. Descent begins in ten
.”

Junie ignored him. She pushed a small upholstered hassock behind him and stepped up. Massaging his balls with one hand, she drizzled lube on his ass crack with the other. “It’s called prostate massage. I’ll make you come. You said you had another one in you, and
I’m going to get it out
.”

Her hips now elevated, Junie braced herself between his legs. She centered the head of her cock against the rapper’s taint and pushed, exerting just enough pressure on it to begin stretching the taut little opening of his ass. Melanie screamed as Rapja’s cock swelled and slid deep inside her rectum.

“Fuck him, Melanie!”

Trembling and shaking like a football lineman just before the snap, Melanie bucked her hips as she pushed and pulled on Rapja’s re-energized cock. Sweat flew off his head as the two women—one on all fours pushing back on his cock with her hips and anus, the other pounding his asshole from behind with a strap-on dildo—fucked him with maniacal intensity.

“Pussy sandwich, Rapja! Ever been the filling in a pussy sandwich before?” Junie screamed, her hands squeezing his hips as she penetrated him with hard, steady thrusts.

Two minutes of intense prostate massage had the desired effect. Rapja screamed, Melanie squealed, and Junie laughed as the internationally renowned rap star exploded inside Melanie—just as the “fasten seatbelts” sign came on.

Author’s Note

Love for Rent
is Book 5 of my series
Junie Makes Michael
. In Book 1,
Making Michael Obey
(a collection of five explicit and highly charged erotic short stories), live-in lovers Junie and Michael explore the edges of their sexuality. Or, more exactly, sex-junkie Junie pushes Michael to his limits as they make love everywhere in their apartment except their new bed (and has the best sex of his life). In Book 2,
Making Michael Submit
, things get wilder after they marry--Junie discovers Michael prefers playing more with himself than with her. An acrylic cock cage takes care of that (and saves their marriage). But Junie has needs, even after she lets Michael out of the cage–-something only her black lover can give.

In Book 3,
The XXX Widow
, Junie becomes the mentor to poor Melanie, a grad student with a problem. Her boyfriend spends more time surfing XXX websites than paying attention to her. Didn’t Junie have that same problem with Michael? She sure did—and fixed it with that cage and his chastity pledge. Taking Junie’s advice, she gives an ultimatum. Alas, the BF splits, leaving Melanie desperate for relief. Hey, isn’t Michael available? He sure is (and he’s been caged for a year), but Junie has her price: Melanie.

Book 4,
The XXX Weekends
: After their first-time lesbian tryst, Junie wants Melanie again. This time, Melanie does the bargaining--and negotiates an entire weekend with Michael. But Junie has her price: Melanie must submit to a stretching with her black bull to prepare her for the women's XXX weekend in D.C. (and her promised fisting) Not long after that lesbian fuck fest, Melanie loses her job and moves in with Junie and Michael.

A month earlier

Michael and Melanie crouched on a rock on the side of the fast-moving mountain stream, peering intently into an eddy. Nearby, Junie, clad only in sandals, balanced on a boulder in the middle of the trout run. The threesome had day hiked for miles deep into a state forest.

Dappled sunlight fell on Junie’s shoulders and small breasts. While it was a warm summer day, the water was icy. The cool mountain air flowing down the mountain above the stream perked her tiny nipples.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Catching crayfish,” Michael responded, half-yelling over the crash of the rushing stream. He waved a small net through the water, while Melanie held a stick in one hand and a flat, clear plastic container in the other. They both wore hiking shorts and T-shirts.

“I’m hungry. And why don’t you take off your clothes?”

They ignored her.

Junie hopscotched from rock to rock and scrambled up the bank to the clearing where their daypacks leaned against some trees. A few minutes later, Michael and Melanie joined Junie, now munching on trail mix and seated at a rustic picnic table. Michael distributed sandwiches as the women poured ice tea from an insulated bottle into plastic cups.

“Junie, about what you were saying in the car,” said Melanie, seated across the table from her. “There’s nothing we can do to change your mind?”

“A contract’s a contract. Michael signed it. It’s got another month.”

Michael looked at his nude wife. She had stripped off her clothes on the hike in, and he knew her well enough that she was probably horny as hell. She always got horny when she was nude outdoors.

“If both parties agree, a contract can be changed,” he pointed out.

“You can’t make me,” Junie said. “There’s nothing you can say or do that’ll change my mind. You agreed to wear an acrylic cock cage for a year, and it’s been eleven months. I own your penis.”

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